Let's Call It Love
by ampersands
Summary: A short story collection centered around the pairing of Seifer and Hayner. 100 themes, all stories under a thousand words. Chapter 17: Enthusiasm. Pence had a feeling that Hayner's lips weren't bruised from Struggle.. Indefinite hiatus.
1. Impressions

I have too much time on my hands.  
This is for a 100 themes challenge by darknessversuslight, although I won't be doing them in order.  
I think this barely scrapes through to keep the T rating. There won't be any lemons in this collection (hell no), but there might be smut -cough-

I don't own Kingdom Hearts x]

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Hayner's parents had always been very tolerant people when it came to their son. Even his mother Julia, who pursed her lips when he would wolf down his food in a way she disapproved of. His father Martine would simply chew on the inside of his tanned cheek and look back down at his newspaper.

Once when Hayner was nine, he had jumped on top of the moving tram in the central part of Twilight Town, causing most of the shopkeepers to chase after the tram. The Accessory shop girl had fallen in front of it by accident, which managed to stop the tram.  
Hayner hadn't apologised at all, instead running back home and telling his parents they wouldn't let him have any fun.

He had to be the most mischievous boy Julia had ever laid eyes on (she had never actually seen the notorious Seifer Almasy, and therefore didn't count him in her calculations.)  
But at times the mischief would fade from his eyes, especially when he talked about his boyfriend. Then, his chocolate eyes would melt and a grin would spread over his face.

"_Boy_friend?" Julia had tittered when he told her, before turning back to the stove.  
Martine didn't really mind that his son fancied other boys. Whoever his current interest was, they seemed to make him happy, which was all that Martine was concerned about.

You may have noticed that there was never an event where Martine and Julia actually _met _Hayner's boyfriend. They had never asked about him, more expecting for Hayner to introduce him when the time was right. Julia in particular liked to emphasise the _when the time was right _part in her head.

So, of course, when Julia opened Hayner's door that unfortunate Tuesday morning, her mind was preoccupied of various thoughts. Why Hayner went to bed right after he came home from school last night, whether the eggs weren't runny enough, and _why there were two people in Hayner's bed instead of the typical one?  
_  
Usually Hayner slept on his side with his quilt pulled all the way up to his chin, so when Julia spotted said quilt lying at the doorway, she had known something was wrong.  
Instead of a quilt pulled up to his chin, Hayner's bed had a very sheer, thin sheet pulled up halfway, just enough to cover up his and - _his _- lower regions.

Hayner's back was to Julia; his bare arms wrapped around the other boy's neck. His face was buried in the boy's shoulder, and Julia could see several hickeys blossoming from Hayner's neck to halfway down his back. His legs were hitched over the boy's - Julia felt strange referring to him as a _boy _when he looked far older than Hayner - hips, and he quietly moaned occasionally.

The other boy had ruffled platinum blonde hair, and a striking scar down his face. Julia's cheeks tightened when she thought of what kind of person he was to have gotten such a terrifying scar.  
She pulled her eyes away - was that _white _on Hayner's bed sheets?! - And backed out of the room, almost slamming the door shut with her shaky hands.

First impressions were everything, even for the open-minded.  
So Julia pursed her lips, Martine shook his newspaper, and Seifer draped his arm over the back of Hayner's chair at the kitchen table as Julia surveyed at the most mischievous pair she'd ever laid eyes on.

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God, I wish I had a beta. If anyone is willing to beta my stuff, PUH-LEESE review so I can contact you, I really need one.  
PS; Yes, that was white on Hayner's bedsheets.


	2. Health And Healing

Cute Seiner is cute. Omnomnom.  
Sorry for the fail time between updates, I'm recovering from the flu and updating all my fics now ^^ Thanks for putting up with me!  
**I don't own Kingdom Hearts.**

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Now here's a sight Hayner never thought he'd see. He let a satisfied smirk creep over his face as he watched Seifer sit on an uncomfortable looking crate after being dragged into the usual spot.  
Seifer leaned his head back with a groan, letting Olette press a damp cloth to his forehead. Blood trickled down his cheeks from his newly-opened scar, dripping onto his white trenchcoat.  
"Hayner, please get _it_ off his coat for me?" Olette's voice seemed strained, as if she was about to collapse at any moment. The smell of blood _was _filling the Usual Spot pretty quickly, Hayner had to admit.

"Why should I?" Hayner retorted, keeping his eyes on Seifer. For once, Seifer's bright blue eyes pricked with irritation while Hayner looked at him smugly. _Oh how the tables have turned_.  
Of course, this was a temporary victory. Seifer had hit an uneven patch of pathway and fallen off his skateboard when delivering mail and Hayner happened to be passing by at the time. Now, the 'score' they had yet to settle was tipping slightly in Hayner's favour. He had saved Seifer from public humiliation, after all.

"Just do what Barbie says, alright?" Seifer growled. His eyes narrowed, but the paleness of him made him a bit less threatening than he was usually.  
Hayner shrugged.  
"You want super-special treatment, go to the hospital."

Suddenly Seifer's hand was wrapped around Hayner's wrist, squeezing so hard that Hayner was scared his veins would burst against each other.  
"I hate that place."  
Hayner bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, yanking his hand away from Seifer.  
"Take off the coat." Olette sighed, taking the cloth away from the wound for a moment to dampen it once more. "Washing it off your skin will be easier."

Seifer struggled out of his trenchcoat and threw it to the ground, leaving him in that borderline slut vest he wore underneath. He also pulled off his beanie, putting it on his lap and brushing a few blonde strands off his forehead.  
The blood trailed its way down Seifer's face slower now, and Hayner tried to look away from the weird gash on Seifer's face.

Was this how he first got it? Did he injure himself, but no-one came by to help? Did the blood trickle down his face the same way it did now, having crafted a path for itself? Was Seifer forced to bite down on his own arm to stop himself from screaming?

Hayner looked up at Seifer, and put his arm on the crate Seifer was sitting on. Olette was about to press a stingy looking Q-Tip to the wound. Again Seifer wrapped his hand around Hayner's wrist, and again he squeezed enough to make Hayner squirm.  
When Hayner felt his hand go numb, he slid his hand over so Seifer was squeezing his hand rather than his wrist. Seifer's rough touch jolted the nerves in Hayner's hand back awake.

After a few minutes Olette was done applying first-aid to the cut. She had wrapped a bandage awkwardly around Seifer's head, enough to cover up the gash, and _just _enough to make Seifer look like a blonde mummy.  
"You call this first-aid?" Seifer hissed. Olette looked hurt, and Hayner squeezed Seifer's hand subconsciously to bring the other boy's attention over to him.

"Ungrateful much?" Hayner snapped, tearing his hand away from Seifer's. Seifer glanced at the floor for a moment before looking back up at Hayner.  
"Guess I am. Thanks, Blondie."

With that, Seifer picked up his trenchcoat from the floor and pulled it back on along with his discarded beanie. He pushed aside the cloth and exited, leaving Hayner and Olette by themselves.  
"Why's he thanking _you_?"

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REVIEWW  
Reviews make me happy and make me forget about this cramp I got in my hand from writing this.  
Also, if you likey Seiner, go check out my fic Dirty Little Secret. -poke poke-  
(I'm shameless.)


	3. Troubling Thoughts

I'm in a writing mood, so here's an update~! Don't forget to review, it only takes a second and makes me very happy/motivated! x)  
While this isn't a drabble challenge, all updates will be under a thousand words. :3  
**Disclaimer: I do not own KH.**

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Hayner leaned his head back with a lazy smile, letting the tips of his hair dampen in the hot water. He hadn't had a bath in so long..  
The last time he _had _was when Olette had the idea of decorating the Sandlot with flower pots, a decision sure to spark a bit of aggression from Seifer's gang. It did, of course. Hayner had to defend himself from an angry Seifer, but failed. The older blonde had twisted his arm around his back and whispered taunts in his ear while Rai and Fuu laughed their heads off.  
God, he hated it when Seifer did that. Like he didn't want to shout his insults to the world, as if that made him _better_. Just because Pence and Olette (playing the role of helpless bystanders) couldn't hear them.. words were words - muttered, forced out of gritted teeth.. Doesn't matter how you put them. They're still.. words.

And when Hayner got home after that incident, he practically drowned himself, not sure if he was trying to wash off the potting mix or Seifer's touch.  
He sighed and bit his lip.  
_This_ was why he didn't bathe often. He showered, sure, but bathing made him.. _think_. Mostly about Seifer and how much that guy _pissed him off_. Maybe it was how the hot water made his body heat up, reminding him of how the 'bully' made his blood boil.

A dull mauve bruise on his knee throbbed in pain as he slid further down, closer to water. Where did he get that bruise from? He wondered. Probably..  
_Seifer Seifer Seifer.._

_**".. Seifer.." Hayner groaned into the ground. The taller boy dug his knee into Hayner's back, smirking. He yanked at both of Hayner's arms, twisting them behind his back.  
"You're such a chickenwuss," Seifer cackled. **__**He ran his hands down Hayner's arms tauntingly, being strangely soft in comparison to his rough handling of him.**__**  
Hayner squirmed and got one hand free, flailing around pathetically.**_

_**"You'll stay **_**still**_**!" Seifer snapped, driving his knee onto Hayner's spine. A twinge of pain shot up Hayner's back, and he let out a cry. **__**Seifer's hand stroked under Hayner's chin softly, pulling his head up and sending a burning pain down Hayner's neck.  
**__**"Sh- "**_

"-it!"  
Hayner pulled himself out of the water, his head breaking the surface and small droplets of water taking safety on his eyelashes. He ran his hands over his arms, shivering in the now-cold bath water, making sure Seifer _wasn't _touching him, no..

_This _was why he didn't bathe often.

* * *

I hate being mean to Hayner ;__;  
(And no, Hayner wasn't remembering something Seifer'd done to him. He was dreaming. ;D)  
DON'T FALL ASLEEP IN BATHS, KIDS. YOU GET WET DREAMS/DROWN.


	4. Start

Well, I _did _have a nice nine hundred word Seiner written up, but my computer blew up internally and I had to restart it.  
So you get a badly written drabble instead. Sorry D:  
No KH ownage here.

* * *

It's hard to figure out when your story actually _starts_. A lot of people like to think that their story has only just started when really they're in **The** **Middle** of it. If they looked around properly, they'd notice the problems and the conflicts that usually accompany the Middle of most reasonable stories. But instead they go around thinking they have quite a bit left ahead of them and suddenly it's **The End **and you're _gone_.

Hayner was fairly sure when his story would start. **The Introduction**, as he always taught, was when all the characters were introduced and you got a feel for who they were. Said characters were meant to develop throughout the story, and typically fall for another character. So, it was clear to Hayner that his story was nowhere **near **the start, and as such he must be in some kind of untouched prequel that no author bothered to edit. The kind that is fairly thrown about and screwed up, but made an okay start to the rest of the series so you went along with it.

But Hayner was yet to figure _himself _out, let alone the 'characters' around him. And the closest thing he ever felt to 'falling' for someone was when Seifer cried out his strange taunt of how romantic the fight was and knocked him to the ground.  
Seifer.. surely the antagonist of Hayner's 'story', the scarred blonde was the bane of Hayner's existence. His insults, the way he waggled the Struggle bat around with a suggestive look on his face**[*]**, even the way he _walked _pissed Hayner off.

And while the antagonist typically hangs around until they are defeated (who says Hayner could ever defeat that bastard anyway?!), Hayner had a strange feeling that Seifer be around for quite some time after that.

* * *

**[*] I am _not _the only one who thinks the Struggle bats look like _that_. Not anymore, anyway ;D**

Seifer's battle taunts are weird, aren't they? I mean, _what's _romantic? Is there a FFVIII reference I'm missing or something? Also, the whole 'Kneel, loser!' thing makes you wonder.. -shifty eyes-  
**  
**I need to go update my main fic now D: -skips off-  
Reviews make me happy and inspire me to rewrite the nine hundred worder D;


	5. Dead Wrong

**I don't own Kingdom Hearts.  
**_Please review both updates x)_

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"Just put it in your goddamn mouth already!"  
"I don't want to!"  
"Everyone does it, you wuss!"  
"Get off me! I'm not ready for it!"  
"Put it in your mouth or **else**, loser."  
"But it's too big! It probably tastes funny!"  
"Put it in and _swallow_, or I'll shove it in there myself."

..

**_"BUT I HATE PAINKILLERS!"_****__**

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_  
_**__**


	6. Shattered

Dedicated to **QueenAlla** and **Bonfiore's Girl**, who reviewed BOTH updates like I asked :3 No more double updates for you lot! ;P  
This could be better. BUT. I was pushing the thousand word limit ;__;  
_**I do not own Kingdom Hearts.  
**_

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Hayner's legs felt especially stiff as he pushed them under the covers of his bed that afternoon, as if he had been on his feet all day. However, all he had really done after waking up was pace around downstairs and lounge on the sofa with a bowl of cereal for a while before coming back upstairs to his room.

Maybe his legs knew that it was too early to be getting back into bed. It wasn't like Hayner was going to _sleep _- no, the reason he had been pacing around earlier was the same reason he was getting underneath these infernal blankets that started to feel like lead.

_This is normal_, he reminded himself. _You're _supposed _to do this.  
_His dad was at work, his mother was out shopping, and no-one was going to be in the house until four - four was when Seifer would come over to work on a geography assignment with him. Now was a good time as any. Hayner pulled his hand away from his boxers when he felt his thoughts stray back to Seifer and the assignment.  
_I'm so not going to be thinking of Seifer when my hands're down my pants._

He and the other blonde had developed an awkward speaking-terms 'friendship' after a particularly difficult assignment which involved Seifer copying the entire thing off Hayner. This time, though, Hayner would make sure that Seifer did his own share of work.  
.. Once he was done with a little business.

Hayner never _had _actually done the deed of touching himself before, and it wasn't shaping out to be the way he had imagined. No matter what he thought of - the curvaceous sports teacher, Olette's mother, Hell, he even tried thinking of _Fuu - _he couldn't seem to make it work. As if he didn't fail at enough things, he was actually managing to get _this _wrong.  
At breaking point (and not the kind he wanted), Hayner jokingly thought of the guys in his Maths class (whatever worked, right?). In particular, the ones Seifer would hang around with. The muscled, sweaty ones who in sports class would _oh dear god __**why was this working?**_

Hayner had only been laying there for a few minutes, but it felt like forever to the boy. He was busy in his own little fantasy, and didn't hear the knocking downstairs amidst his own quiet moans.  
He didn't hear the call of "I'm coming in, lamer."  
And he certainly didn't hear his bedroom door crack open.

Seifer stood by Hayner's doorway with a baffled expression, trying to figure out why the Hell chickenwuss was half-asleep and muttering his name.  
And then he noticed the movements under the covers.  
_At least the guy has modesty._

"Hayner?"  
Hayner's eyes snapped open. He followed the feeling of weight to the end of his bed and paled. Seifer was sitting there with a serious expression; his eyes wider and softer than Hayner had ever seen them. His hand was resting on Hayner's ankle, which was stuck out from under the blankets.  
"Y-You're early," Hayner breathed, keeping Seifer's gaze.  
"Yeah."

Seifer was slowly inching towards Hayner, his eyes still wide.  
"I was - sleeping.."  
"Right." Seifer laughed weakly. "You don't have to imagine, you know."  
"I- uh- wh.."  
"You know what I mean."

Seifer came faster now, and Hayner could actually feel Seifer's breath mingling with his own. Or maybe he was just imagining it?

Seifer leaned forward, his nose touching Hayner's.  
"You know you want to," he muttered, smirking.

Oh yes, Hayner certainly wanted to. He didn't know why - maybe it was the fact he was already aroused. By thoughts of Seifer, nevertheless, but still, now that the scarred blonde was here and inching ever closer and - and - _God Seifer's breath tastes good._

Hayner breathed very lightly then, in case his breath smelt bad. _Then again_, he thought, licking his lips as subtely as possible, _if he's about to do what I think he is, I'm screwed if I have bad breath..  
_"Come on, wuss. Push me away or take it." Seifer's hands were resting between Hayner's shoulders and the nape of his neck.  
_Door two._

Hayner's jaw twitched, and he leaned his head forward as fast as he could.

His head whirled. Not because Seifer was forcing his tongue down Hayner's throat, mad with pleasure. The older blonde wasn't doing anything _close _to that.  
Rather, Seifer had just moved his hands from Hayner's neck and grabbed his shoulders, slamming him against the hard metal headboard.  
_Rough much?_

"'The.. fuck?!" Hayner croaked out. His shoulders burned with pain, and twinges were inching up his neck.  
"I hope you choked on your horny tongue, faggot," Seifer hissed. He jumped off Hayner's bed, brushing at his trenchcoat like Hayner was some kind of infection. "I'll get Rai's notes." He rubbed the back of his neck and glared at Hayner. "Sicko."

As Seifer got out of Hayner's room as fast as he could, Hayner realised something.  
The worst part of this _wasn't _that Seifer would most likely tell all his goons at school, or the mutters of "Queer," that he'd have to listen to whenever he Struggled with Seifer.  
It wasn't even that Seifer was going to whip the crap out of him with a wet towel in the changerooms (in fact, that suddenly sounded like a rather nice idea).

It was the fact that even though Seifer had absolutely _shattered _Hayner's confidence..  
... Hayner..  
.. kind of..  
.. wanted him to do it again.__

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For the record, I absolutely HATE it when people call gay guys faggots ;_;  
But Seifer's mean.  
So I don't condone - encourage, support, WHATEVER - it.  
Review?


	7. My Inspiration

Aw, geez, was it because I threatened you guys with no more double updates? D'aw. I love you really, I just wish you wouldn't eat cookies in the bed.  
This is like 10 words off breaking the limit; so the ending is veeery rushed.  
**No KH ownage here~**

* * *

Hayner loved to write.  
He loved the feeling of his pen writing on paper or his fingers flying across laptop keys, he just loved the feeling of _writing_.  
When he couldn't find any paper, he would write on blank cheques or heating bills (much to his roommate Seifer's dismay), or even on himself. He could only write on one side of himself, of course, and only really got to his left elbow before his writing would slant and become illegible.

Seifer thought writing was for wusses, and that Hayner was clearly a poetry-writing pansy. The only reason he was living with the lamer anyway was because of a bet the two gangs had made (without the consent of their leaders) that the two couldn't live together for more than three months..  
.. without practically killing each other.

It had been close - once, Hayner was about to write on his bedroom wall when Seifer tackled him screaming, "WE'RE **RENTING** THIS PLACE** [*]**."  
Other than that the two had put up with each other fairly well. They had grown out of their teenage quarrels (a bit) now that they were both eighteen (_"S'not your birthday yet, Seif'~" Hayner cheered._) and slowly developing into.. _men_.  
Seifer hated the idea of growing up, and he also hated how Hayner was happily going along with it, writing up his college applications and shit like that.

Not that he cared what that chickenwuss did - no way. It just pissed him off how Wuss loved to write _so freaking much_.  
So, when he came home from work and saw Hayner trying to squeeze a freaking _novel_ on his own arm in tiny writing, he had no hesitation in slamming the other boy against the wall with a growl.

"We're running out of paper, and you take up all the hot water trying to wash that _shit _off," Seifer hissed. His nose was touching Hayner's, so that his light eyes could search around for a hint of fear in his roommate's darker ones.  
"Yeah, well, that's your problem!"  
"Are you _still _using the same comebacks from ninth grade, loser? We live together, got it? Meaning I put up with you as long as you're put-uppable." Seifer's hands grabbed Hayner's wrists and pinned them above the blonde's head tightly.  
"Put-uppable isn't a word, idiot." Hayner said through a wince. His brown eyes seemed weaker, the defiant gaze from before fading.  
"Just write at the library or get a laptop or some shit, alright?"

--

After the small 'incident', Hayner tried his best not to write. Really, he did. Whenever an idea popped up in his head, he would tuck it into the back of his head and not think about it. Seifer's suggestions seemed useless he couldn't afford a laptop, and the librarian would constantly hit on him whenever he visited, and the flirty woman seemed to be perpetually on shift. She was pretty, sure, but Hayner didn't really like girls. He'd never been attracted to anyone, really.

People sometimes get together with their roommates, but the thought of being attracted to - or _doing _anything with - Seifer made Hayner crack up in the middle of a very silent evening as Seifer was watching TV.  
"Shut it, lamer." Seifer had growled, throwing a couch cushion at Hayner and turning back to the screen.

But the show Seifer was watching put ideas in Hayner's head. Writing ideas.  
That night, he squirmed under the covers and turned around, unable to sleep. If dreams really were your mind sorting out what you've thought of during the day, Hayner was pretty much _frightened _of falling asleep due to the massive amount of pure _thought _he'd had.  
Fuck it. He was going to write.

Throwing off the covers and stalking out into the main room, Hayner glanced around. What could he write on without Seifer's notice..  
He'd never tried to hide his writing before, except for 'that one time' when he and Olette had written "DENSE" on Pence's forehead (Get it? Pence the Dense; har har. Hayner found it quite amusing at the time too.) while he was sleeping and Pence didn't realise for -  
_Aha!_

Hayner tiptoed over to Seifer's bedroom door, breathing as quietly as he could. Seifer was a heavy sleeper, and _probably _wouldn't wake up to find Hayner writing all over his back.  
Wanting to get it over with, Hayner slowly crossed the threshold and stood next to Seifer's bed. He crouched and winced when the floorboards creaked. Seifer just moaned in his sleep and rolled over onto his chest, biting his pillow.  
Hayner had taken the inkiest, most-likely-to-dribble pen from his bedside table without noticing when he got up, so he wouldn't have to press hard.

Squinting in the darkness, Hayner slowly began to write on Seifer's bac-  
"_What do you think you're doing."  
_".. Um. Writing."

Seifer rolled over and looked down at Hayner, glaring at him.  
"Why the hell are you writing on _me_?"  
"It's better than writing on the water bills, right?"  
That much was true. Seifer was positively _anal_ when it came to billing, and whenever he found scribble on an overdue notice he would blow his top at Hayner.

Seifer seemed less threatening later in the daytime, because his eyes would glint in the darkness with a kind of softness in comparison to the sharp night.  
"Get on the bed."  
"_What?_"  
"Sit on it."  
Hayner sat beside Seifer on the bed and crossed his legs.

Seifer extended his arm and rested it on Hayner's lap palm-up. He clenched his fist and muttered something that Hayner couldn't hear.  
"Go on, write."

* * *

  
**[*] _In_ **_**case for some reason you don't get it; if you're renting you can't write on the walls or hammer nails into them or anything. At least here in Oz. :3**_

D'aw. How cute.  
I'm totally not imagining the kinky things they could do with that. Nope.


	8. Rivalry

Read it as someone talking. What the fuck? FFNet ate my chapter TWICE.  
For **QueenAlla **and **ilyfromjess**, since Char's awesome and Jess ish/was (when I first uploaded) in a bad mood.  
**_I do not own KH._**

* * *

How I got **that** scar?  
Why is everyone so interested in that? It's not fucking important, is it? It's just a big mark on my face.  
If you want, think that I fell off the swing and cut my head open.  
Even though I never liked swings.

If I had a Struggle trophy for every goddamn time someone asked me how I got it, Setzer would faint from purple-poofy-jealousy.  
I swear that guy is queer. He has a billion fucking fangirls and hasn't screwed _one _of them. Ungrateful, that's what he is.  
Then again, chickenwuss went out with Olette, didn't he? Probably left her when looking at Tubs made him more hard then she did. Whatever.

A far more interesting story is when I tried to cover it up once.  
Plus, I remember more of that. Here's a hint: I had it when I was nine, and I never touched a swing 'til twelve.

A'ight.  
I was nine - no, I don't remember what grade that is. You think I keep track of how many years I've been in school? Uh-huh.. right now all I know is that I'm one grade above Chickenwuss and that's all that matters - I snuck into my mum's makeup drawer.  
Shut the fuck up.  
I was just _looking_.  
She had all this eyeliner and mascara crap - before then I thought women grew eyeliner like they grew eyelashes - and then she had this little squeezey thing full of foundation with a sponge on the end. The sponge had a little cut hole in the middle for the foundation to come out, which kinda look like a vag now that I think about it.  
Don't make that face. What are you, eleven?

So I used it like crazy. Spent an hour evening everything out before I had to admit I looked good without that scar. Obviously I probably looked damn hot, but I wasn't exactly Seifer back then. I was _nice_. I called Chickenwuss by his name and thought Fuu was strange. I wasn't in-tune with my appeal.

When I went to school, all those dickwads who called me names were all _chummy _with me. We're best mates now, but back then they were asses to me. Irvine, Zell, Laguna - all _chummy_.  
The only people who didn't act any different with the Lame-o Trio, who always just were _there_, but never talked to me. I think Olette asked me for a pencil once though.

The day went great. Beyond great. I felt fucking **awesome**, until those..  
.. clouds.  
And you know what? Clouds keep rain tucked away in their little fluffy pockets.  
And when all this water started falling from the sky during outdoor sport, everyone asked me why my face was melting. Point and laugh, point and laugh.  
You get the fucking idea.

The tramp teacher had no idea what the fuck to do, and sent me to the toilets to wash off the foundation - like it wasn't ruined enough. So I was leaning over and looking at the mirror, seeing this wimp there with big reddening eyes and little tears running down his cheeks.  
And it was me.

Last time I ever cried. Ooh, dramatic.  
I was about to start throwing a tantrum when Chickenwuss runs in, drops his toilet pass and gives me a big old fucking _hug_.  
A hug.  
What the fuck, I know.

And he sits me down on the grimy floor and gives me a lecture.  
"You knows," he says. "My daddy had a scar like yours. It was a liiiittle biggner, but it healsed over after a while. And you know how he got it?"  
I shake my head like a deaf retard and look up at him from under my hair.  
"This girl fell onto the twain tracks near Sunset Terrace, 'n he jumped on top of her and held her down so the twain didn't runny over her. His shirt got caught though, and when he rolled off her he scratcheded his head on a pointy thing on the tracks. You know what that girl did?"  
"W-what?" I ask.  
"She married him! And she's my mummy! It means you're brave."

He's looking at me like he's won a Peace Prize, with his cheeks all red and rosy and his hair all smooth and shit. And I'm thinkin', what the fuck should I do? This _random _just made me feel better, how pathetic am I, right?  
So I figure, well, wuss, you're different. Your dad saved a chick's life. Mine came at me with a carving knife. We're very different.  
Tough guys like me don't need randoms to make us feel better, cause we're not chickens.

And the next thing I know, I'm knockin' him over as I stand up and the next thing outta my mouth is, "Whatever, chickenwuss."  
I'm not carin' that his big Bambi eyes are tearing up and a bruise is swelling on his arm, I'm just thinkin' of a way to show Irvine how I'm still **bad**.  
So I pull a bit of his hair out.  
Not much, just enough to force him to have those weird slicked-back bangs that still haven't grown out even _now_.

And yeah.  
He didn't like me much after that. Don't give me that fucking look. He shouldn't have hugged me in the first place; probably practicing for the time to shove his dick up my ass during Struggle.  
Fuu's coming over later to do homework with me.  
No, you can't stay. **Yes **we're doing homework.  
Page 69 of the Geography book as far as you're concerned.  
Now get the fuck out.

* * *

Reviews are loved~


	9. Cold Embrace

Drabble time!  
Whoo.  
This _was _going to have the reappearance of Julia - since you all loved her so much - but it didn't quite fit. She gets a little mention at the end though.  
And no, Leon isn't Hayner's dad. Or anyone's dad. Martine and Julia will _always _be Hayner's parents in these stories, and Seifer's won't ever have names. That's the only thing connecting any of these.  
**I don't own Kingdom Hearts.**

  


* * *

The freezing cold of the air conditioner was pretty much turning the fine hairs on Hayner's arms into icicles. He sighed and leaned his back against the chair, only to be pushed forward by Olette's foot.  
"Don't be lazy, Hayner." She teased.

He muttered several unfavourable words under his breath and set his gaze back on the blackboard. Olette got to sit wherever she wanted, but _he _had to sit at the front away from Seifer because of 'bad behaviour'. Whatever. Seifer started it - he **always **did. Seifer always started the 'friendly' Struggles, the punch-ups, and Hayner always took the bait like an idiot.

He kind of liked Struggling, though. It was so easy to just skate down to the Sandlot and demand a Struggle. Struggling made the blood pump through his veins, made his arms shake with uncertainty.

The teacher ranted on about stem-and-leaf charts a little more, not concerned over the rather obvious fact that almost no-one in the class was paying attention.  
Hayner began to tap his pencil against the desk, stopping when a piece of curled up paper hit him on the head and tumbled onto his desk.

He was about to throw it back in the direction it came when he noticed the letter 'S' written on the inside. Hayner unfurled it, keeping his eyes on the teacher.  
_'Struggle after school' _was written in sloppy, boyish handwriting, with '**_And it's not a question, wuss_**_._' written below it as an afterthought.

Now he had something to look forward to.  
The paper in his hand seemed warm - warmer than the rest of this chilly classroom, anyway. Even in winter, Seifer's hands felt like fire against Hayner's skin whenever they Struggled. His tackles had more warmth to them than even his mum's hugs ever did, which was strange.  
It was probably the whole sweat thing. Adrenaline and all that.

* * *

  
I'm sure that's what it is, Hay-Hay.


	10. Seeking Solstice

_For Kim.  
You'll find your solstice.**  
No KH ownage here.**_  
**_  
_**

* * *

**_"Hedoesn'tloveyouhe'llneverloveyouhe'susingyoujusttohurtyouhurthimbackhurtyourself."_**_  
_Hayner wasn't sure what **they** were. He knew they were voices, but what twisted force commanded them Hayner had no idea. Maybe they were just in his head, like when people argue with themselves. Or maybe they were a million consciences rolled into one, giving him more guilt than he'd ever earned or deserved.

Or maybe - just _maybe_ - he was insane, and he should be bundled into a cold room in a tight jacket. He wouldn't let that happen, though. Seifer kept a gun in the drawer beside their bed in case of burglars, and Hayner only needed one bullet.  
But then again, how would they bundle him away if no-one knew? Only Hayner knew.. Except..

Seifer seemed to know, just a little. When Hayner answered questions that the silence asked him, or when Hayner started to scream for Seifer to get out of him and stop feeling him when they were four feet away from each other.  
It probably scared him. It scared Hayner, too, when Seifer would hold him down with a wild look of alarm in his eyes and Hayner was just doing what his head was telling him to. **_Answer. Scream._**  
He didn't know why Seifer was stopping him from hitting himself. **They **would just shout louder.

He never got peace and quiet - sounds were almost always tumbling over each other in his head. When he did as they asked they went away for a while, but not long.  
At least doing those things didn't hurt. Nothing really hurt much anymore; Seifer wasn't abusive or anything like a younger Hayner might have expected, and they were both very much over Struggle.  
**They **got bored of no pain, though, so on occasion Hayner would bow to their demands. Pinching a lit candle or tracing the inside of his arm with a butterknife - challenging himself to see how much pain he could get out of himself with such limited tools.

The only one, single thing that stopped Hayner from shoving the candle right down his throat or prying open his veins with the knife was Seifer.  
Stupid, hard-headed Seifer who would _never _listen to silly little whispers in his mind, who never had to squirm at images the whispers put in his head. Seifer, whose voice broke through the little whispers, even when they turned to shouts and were roaring in Hayner's ears. Sometimes Hayner would wake Seifer up in the middle of the night and ask him to start talking. Seifer's grip around Hayner would tighten as he buried his head into the younger blonde's neck. And every night, the same "Damnit, Hayner." that preceded Seifer telling Hayner every little thing he could about his day.

If Hayner listened properly (he tried, he really did), he would probably know a lot more about Seifer than he did. In fact, Hayner was almost positive that Seifer had repeated himself a few times. But Hayner didn't really mind. He just loved Seifer's voice.  
It wasn't the sound. It was the lack of it.

* * *

I crapped up the ending. Meep.


	11. Stirring Of The Wind

Yay, let's pad this collection with s'more Hayner angst.  
I swear, two humor ones are coming up. :3 I get the straaangest plot bunnies sometimes~

* * *

Sometimes I wonder.  
I wonder that if I wandered across the world like I dream, would I fall right off the edge? They say the world's round, but 'they' also say hearts have beats; does that mean that mine doesn't work right?

I wonder who 'they' are. Are they the ones who pull our strings and make us perform for the world? To overact or underact? Pull the string on your cannon, the string of a heart and of your out-of-tune guitar. It always sounds the same.

I wonder if I had held on that little bit tighter, if you would have stayed longer, or pulled away even sooner? Maybe I was smothering you, but I don't know if that's what it was. When I grab my pillow and yell into it I hear my screams reverberate back in my mind until my head's about to explode and I can't breathe. So I pull the pillow away and shove it under my bed, not wanting to rest my head on a cushion full of torment. Is that smothering?  
Was I really that bad?

And then I wonder why people put words in italics when they write, even if it's just in their diary. The words themselves should have emphasis, right? Why should the reader be forced to put the roughness on the words the way the writer wants them to? Why should the writer force the words to stand out anyway, because sometimes words just want to fade away and never be seen again?

And.. and now I'm not even sure who I wish I could say this to. It's you - the lover, the brother, the friend.. You were all three and I wasn't even sure if I wanted that much from you. You weren't too good for me, you were too good for yourself.

I'm not going to run a knife down my arm - although it is fascinating to see my blue veins throb under the glinting silver touch of a blade - because of you. I'm not that messed up in the head. I'm smart.  
But I can't handle being here. The same pillow I scream into has witnessed hickeys and moans and other dirty, dirty things that we shouldn't have done at our age. And the walls you would press me up against get closer and closer every night, until I'm sure they'll crush me while I sleep.

I'm scared.  
This is the part where your arms encircle me and you mutter, "Baby steps, chickenwuss," as you help me to keep walking, to not let my legs collapse underneath me.  
But I don't feel your warmth, I just feel the wind stroking at my arms and playing with my hair. Maybe it's the only thing that will ever do that again.

* * *

  
If it sounds OOC, that's because I wasn't in a very happy place when I wrote this D: A little bit of me seeped in.


	12. Tears

Quick update before I run off to do homework.  
Only I could make the theme 'Tears' sad and then make it end with Seifer on top of Hayner.  
Sometimes I wish I wasn't such a pervert.

That's a lie.

**I don't own Kingdom Hearts.**

* * *

Crying was stupid.

It was a stupid, pointless practice that Seifer Almasy _never_ chose to engage himself in. He had far better things to do than letting all his emotions spill out over his cheeks and trickle over his jawline to his neck. While he never _chose _to cry, sometimes it just happened. Mainly from laughter, or a slight shock of pain jolting up his arm after hitting his elbow on the ground during Struggle. Small little droplets would splay over the ground, and Seifer would step over them in ignorance. He had no time for tears.

So it utterly **baffled **him to see this pesky droplets running over the full cheeks of his boyfriend's face. Surely Hayner didn't have to do this _right in front of him_. Seifer knew he should be feeling guilt, or something along those lines. Some kind of evidence that seeing someone important to him in pain pained him too.

But.. it didn't. Not really.

All Seifer was concerned with was brushing the tears away from Hayner's short eyelashes with his thin lips, his hand busy cupping Hayner's jawline to arch the other boy towards him. He hadn't asked why Hayner was upset, or how he could help. The only thing pressing him on was the sight of Hayner standing at his doorstep, his sweet brown eyes shivering. He didn't like that sight.

"Seifer?"

"Nnn.."

"Stop it."

_Oh, __**hell**_.

"Why?" Seifer sighed, pulling away and leaning back into the couch. Hayner pulled his legs up and crossed them beneath him anxiously. His cheeks were dry now - somewhat - but his eyes still shivered. Big, brown circles boring into Seifer and distracting his hormones, his damn _hormones. _They always did. Hayner's wide eyes and baby face contradicted his fit body, his muscled arms, his.. _damnit. _Hayner was crying again.

"You're such a girl." Seifer swung his legs up and placed his feet in Hayner's lap, leaning his back against the arm of the lounge. His shoes dug into Hayner's thighs uncomfortably. "Whatever it is, get over i- "  
"Rai called me a poof."  
"...." Seifer internally snickered at the idea of such a term coming from the muscled bully's mouth before tightening his jaw. The snicker faded when he realised it was _Rai_, and this was _Hayner_. Rai wasn't allowed to say that to his Hayner. Oh, hurting him was going to be _good_.

"He's an idiot, ignore it."

"I'm still not used to be called stuff other than 'Blondie' or 'loser', okay?"

"Did _those _names ever make you this wimpy?"

"... No." Hayner played with a loose shoelace of Seifer's. "They ticked me off."

"Good." Seifer said smugly, taking his feet away from Hayner's lap and leaning forward again. "Faggot."

"Stop it."

Seifer's parted lips brushed Hayner's jaw. "Poof."

"Seifer."

"Gay~" Seifer's tone had an almost sing-song quality to it, and he felt Hayner curl his fist against Seifer's ribs. "Get used to it, chickenwuss. People're gonna call you names. They're just _words_."

"You're not helping."

"You're not sad anymore, are you? You're _angry_."

"Get off me."

Hayner's eyelashes were dark and wet still, but his eyes were hardening with irritation. Seifer smirked as he felt Hayner's cheeks tighten. The fist against Seifer's ribs had flattened out into a gentle palm.  
Seifer always got his way like this - by winding his partner up until Hayner tried to squirm out of Seifer's grasp, reminding the two exactly who was dominant.

They were yet to cross that thick line between 'partner' and 'lover', and Seifer kept a mental note to snicker cruelly when he got a glimpse of Hayner's.. _thin_ line between 'partner' and 'lover'.

"I like this," Seifer breathed. His arms ached slightly from propping himself up above Hayner, and he wondered for a moment what it would be like to have Hayner leaning over _him_. "You look very pretty from here, wuss."

"Get. Off. Me."

"Make me."

Seifer tightened his grip around Hayner as he squirmed, a gentle sneer decorating the older's features.

* * *

  
WHY DO I LIKE POINTING OUT THE DISADVANTAGES OF SEINER?! WHAAIII?! DX  
Vote for me. Should the next one be angsty or amusing?


	13. Summer Haze

This was so pushing the thousand word limit; so I had to remove a bit of Hayner's pain. I keep torturing this guy!  
**_I do not own KH._**

* * *

The beach was always hot and sunny whenever Hayner and the gang went there. The sun was always beating down with its sizzling aura.  
And Seifer's 'gang' was _always _there to irritate said beachgoers with their wolf-whistles and littering.  
So why hadn't Hayner noticed how good Seifer looked in boardshorts?

It wasn't like he didn't have enough time to look at the guy. Seifer sat around the Sandlot in his spare time, and if Hayner wished it he could peek around the corner and stare for hours before the other blonde would even begin to notice him.  
.. Not that Hayner ever did, of course.

But he had never really noticed how insanely white Seifer's teeth looked against his lips when he pulled his mouth back into a cheeky grin. Never a smile, just a grin or a smirk. Seifer probably lacked the facial muscles required to make a smile.  
Hayner tried to picture him with a normal smile on his face, but was interrupted when Pence's beach ball connected squarely with his head.

"Watch it!" He half-squeaked, earning a glance from Seifer, who probably heard Hayner's shriek from where he was. Hayner fell to the ground purposefully and turned his head away from where Seifer sat, feeling his ass hit the wet sand uncomfortably. Oh, damnit. He hadn't wanted to get his boxers wet until he had bought a sea-salt icecream. Damnit, Pence!

Hearing Seifer's forced - forced or forceful? Hayner really never could tell - laughter still, Hayner turned and walked carefully on all fours until he found the part where the sandy ledge of the beach dropped off into a deeper area. He always had to do this because of the unpredictability of the waters on the beach. Several times a swimmer had been caught in a rip, and someone like Zell or Laguna had fished them out rather than an actual lifeguard.  
_Does this place even have lifeguards? _Hayner thought as he treaded water.

His feet brushed the bottom lightly, and he smiled at the sensation of the sand prickling through his toes. He could hear Pence's eager cries - Olette must've brought over the icecreams. The feeling of salty water cleansing his messy blonde hair was muuch better than the taste of sea-salt icecream - hell, he had half the flavour right here!

After a few minutes of swimming about and laying on his back a while, Hayner turned towards the shore, forcing his tired arms to drag him back to land. His arms were connected to his brain, however, and his brain had suddenly become rather preoccupied with the sight of Seifer - flexing? No. Surely the guy wasn't _flexing_. That was just stupid.

A swimmer overtook him on their way to shore, and Hayner was bumped to the side lightly. His foot scraped against a jutting rock in the sand before he felt something sticky wrap around his leg. Seaweed? Or ma-

Hayner sucked in a breath as he bobbed slightly underwater, the taste of dirty salt filling his mouth. He instinctively threw a hand high in the air, trying to scream through the water His left thigh throbbed slightly, and the rest of his body wasn't responding the way he wanted it to.. The rock was scraping against his foot again, pain shooting through his frazzled veins. It felt like all his muscles had gained heartbeats, and his brain had turned into lead.  
He managed to push his hand above the surface again before his head exploded.

-

"Rise and shine, lamer."  
Trying to open his eyes to words he wouldn't quite prefer hearing, Hayner groaned. The sun burned the inside of his eyelids, and all he could see was red. The ground was hot and scratchy, but something cool was lapping at his toes. He wanted to inch down towards that coolness, only stopped by the searing pain in his legs.

"Come on chickenwuss, we don't have all day." Something warm and soft was tapping at Hayner's cheek lightly. "Geez."  
"Oh, where're the lifeguards?"  
"There _are_ none, Barbie."  
"Then how are you supposed to get rid of those red marks on his legs?"

The warmth against his cheek stilled, and he felt something stroke at his left - or was it right? - thigh lightly, pulling up his shorts. Light jolts of pain and ticklishness spread up his leg.  
Hayner groaned, turning his face towards the warmth. Nice, comforti-  
"Oh, for fuck's sake."

Rough hands pushed Hayner back onto his back, and he winced as a full-blown slap flew across his face. He squinted with watery eyes, wondering how that moisture was able to withstand the heat.  
"Sit up, loser."  
He obeyed, feeling a hand on his back. Why were all these hands on him lately?!  
"What happened?" He choked out, his jaw cracking as he spoke. Olette was leaning over him with a nervous look on her face and a vial filled with some white liquid. Seifer was to the side, looking far less worried than Olette.

"A bluebottle**[*]** felt you up," Seifer grumbled, snatching the vial out of Olette's hands and dumping a bit of the sticky substance on his hand. He immediately leaned over and started assaulting the other boy's thighs with his coated hands, rubbing up and down the spidery red marks. Hayner squirmed and squeaked, pushing at Seifer's hands. The older blonde rolled his eyes.  
"I don't care if it stings."

That wasn't exactly what it was. That was not a stinging sensation running up Hayner's body. It felt near-electric, sure, but it didn't sting, and certainly did- aahh, Seifer needed to stop rubbing Hayner's thighs _now_..  
Olette's worried expression didn't fade, but Seifer had begun to slow, painfully kneading the lotion into the red marks on his legs. Hayner grabbed the wet shirt Seifer had on, leaning against his chest and breathing heavily.  
"It hurts that bad?" Hayner could feel a rumble of laughter through the bully's chest. "Wimp."

* * *

**[*] My Aussieness keeps seeping in - they're like jellyfish; except they're smaller. You have NO idea how badly they hurt.**

Yep, it really hurts that bad.. -shifty eyes-  
Pence disappeared because he's too fat for word count.


	14. Thirty Three Point Three Percent

_More Seifer POV!_ **YAY! **  
_More angst!_ **Ahwww.. ehhh.. what? **

I swear, I have a very good idea for the theme of 'Breakfast'. It involves Hayner thinking Seifer's going to lick spilt milk off of him.  
See? No angst there, after all~  
No use crying over - -shot-

**I do not own Kingdom Hearts. I'm too lame. **

* * *

"Thirty three percent chance of survival."  
"Thirty three _point three_." Seifer corrected dryly.

Hayner's hands were curled into weak fists by his sides, his knuckles sticking out more than they should. His eyes were cast into his lap, as if looking at even the walls would hurt him.  
"Don't be scare- "  
"Shut up."

Seifer's breath caught, and he let his hand creep over the sheets to grasp Hayner's. He had told him time and time again - don't be scared, it'll be fine - until his throat was dry and he wasn't sure what he was even saying . It didn't look like Hayner believed him anymore.

"I'm gonna die, you know. There won't _be_ anything. It'll just be nothing."  
"That's not what it's like."  
"Right: gays go to Hell. Almost forgot."  
"Don't _say _that."  
"It was worth it." Hayner leaned back into his pillow, his dark eyes glittering with mischief. Seifer's skin flushed - now wasn't the time to think of that, **no.**

"You won't die. Thirty-three's a big number."  
"So's sixty-six. At least you won't have to put up with me anymore, right?"  
"Don't be an idiot." Seifer said quietly. He was yet to _whisper: _ he had shouted at incompetent carers, groaned in pain when he hit his foot on the side of Hayner's bed - but never whispered. Seifer Almasy could **never **be that gentle.

"Where's Mum and Dad?"  
"Traffic." Seier mumbled. _He _had been here. From when Hayner fainted during Sport to now, a week later, when Hayner was about to - _argh._  
Brain tumours weren't that hard to cut out, were they? Hayner surviving was a variable. As long as the doctors were focused.. Maybe they wouldn't be: _maybe_ they would be tired and stressed and living off cafeteria-quality cheese sandwiches for the last five days like Seifer.  
"I'm scared."

For once, Seifer didn't feel like calling Hayner a wimp. He didn't want to tease or taunt or berate him. He just wanted to yank Hayner out of the bed and break the hold all those IV feeds had on him. He wanted to run through the hospital doors with Hayner in his arms and just _run _until they forgot all about the lesion.  
"I know."  
"Aren't you meant to make me not scared?"  
"I'm not good at that."

Hayner didn't look right. His matted blonde hair hadn't been washed in a while (he refused to be seen naked by strangers, and when Seifer tried to give him a sponge bath it tickled him too badly), and the only thing Seifer _really recognised _was the stubborn pout and the dark Bambi eyes. So damn irritating and so **cute **at the same time. But he didn't look right.  
"You're going to be fine. They're going to wheel you out with that same damn defiant expression on your face.." Seifer leaned over and pressed his lips to Hayner's tight cheeks. ".. And you'll go home and recover.."  
"And the second I'm well enough to walk again you're probably gonna drag me over to your house and- "

Seifer didn't really care about breathing. His breathing had been tight and careful lately, as if one exhalation could knock Hayner over. And he hadn't actually _kissed _Hayner - other than on the wrist lightly before the nurse stuck a needle in him - in a very long time. So he took this quick opening to have his way with Hayner's strong mouth one last - _ah, no, not **one last time**. Don't think like that, Seifer, don't -_

"You." Hayner breathed. Seifer leaned back and pressed his lips tightly against each other, wondering how Hayner had made them so warm.  
"Yes, me." Seifer muttered, pulling his chair as close to Hayner's bed as he could, crushing his own legs in the process. "What about me?" He put a hand under Hayner's chin and leaned forward again with his eyes closed.  
"I want to look at you."  
Seifer sighed and opened his eyes, keeping an awkward stare with the blonde. "You _are_ looking at me."  
"I mean. Before the nurse comes. I wanna see you and that's it."  
"Want me to be the last thing you see?" Seifer let a smirk creep over his face. _Cheesy._ "Before the operation." He added quickly.  
"Make sure I close my eyes."

Seifer wanted to hold him. so badly, he wanted to hold him. But the way Hayner was laying there - along with Nurse Beatrix's disapproving stares - stopped him. The only thing he could do was squeeze his hand. The tapping of high heels reverberated through the halls, and Seifer froze. His hand was stiff against Hayner's, but still tight.

**_If the person you cared about the most in the entire world was about to die, and you knew it, and you were there, and damnit you wish you could stop it, what the Hell would you do? What if you're too choked up with fear to say anything, and you don't get to tell them all the things you're sorry for? They're dead, and you'll never meet anyone like them ever again. You cling at the air and envy the particles of dust, because they touched the person longer than you did. You envy Death, because even if you hold on as long as you can, Death'll be the thing that touches them last.  
Thirty three point three.  
What the Hell would you do?_**

_Don't cry, Seifer. No. **IDIOT!**_  
Seifer pulled his dark beanie off his head, intending to rub his sore eyes with it. He noticed the way Hayner's frightened eyes followed it, and crumpled it up in his hand tightly.  
"Hayner," he croaked. He leaned over again, chastely brushing his lips against Hayner's forehead and tucked the beanie into Hayner's hands. His hands cupped Hayner's chin, and he softened his eyes as much as he possibly could. He couldn't soften that damn scar, but he wasn't exactly going for an angelic look.  
"Close your eyes." He whispered.

* * *

OH SHUT UP ;A; I FEEL BAD TOO ;A;  
And Hayner's parents kinda fail.. it's taken them a week to get there.. ? Must be heavy traffic D:  
The next one will have the return of Hayner's prude mother Julia, and.. HAYNER WILL GET A LAST NAME :O  
And no.  
It won't be Almasy. ._.


	15. Judgement

Note to self; do that frequency distribution table homework that is due next week, STOP bombarding your subscribers.  
**I do not own Kingdom Hearts.**

* * *

**  
**  
Julia Covington. A name not fully recognised by that many residents of Twilight Town, but a face known all too well. You see, if you were to enquire about her to a typical townsperson, you would have to bring a picture of her along with you. And once said townsperson kindly identified her, they would be likely to ask for her name, simply to be put on the restraining order they'd been mulling over.

Yes, Julia Covington was very memorable. Although in _her _mind, the reason for the sudden silence of a loud household upon her approach was guilt. To _her_, her frequent 'clients' were simply terrified with the thought of Yevon's judgement, and decided to hide behind their lacey curtains in favour of talking to her. She thought herself quite the salesperson for her cause: trundling around the streets every chilly Sunday morning with a pile of prayer books in the back of her tiny car, not a care in the world for other people's lazy sleep-ins, or how her family was supposed to serve breakfast or start the washing machine without her. Knocking on people's doors with a tight smile pinned to her powdery pink cheeks was advertising, not _terrorizing.  
_In _her _mind, anyway.

Circling her 'area' every better part of the weekend, Julia would hand out as many brochures and books and wristbands - you get the idea - she could before inching a street along for new victims - ehm, clients.  
Mi'ihen Road was fairly untouched by her cause despite its age, stretching all the way from the local school to the tram station. It was a very long - albeit dusty - business opportunity waiting to happen. Quaint little houses sat along the side of it, colours ranging from a pastel pink to a brown duller than a Chocobo's toenails. As she pulled up to the first of these, Julia stepped out of her car with a smile on her face, her hair pulled tight in its blonde bun. The letterbox of the house ached for a polishing, and the slot was quickly stuffed full with white pamphlets by Julia.

"Ah, I do love the smell of a clueless client," she sighed, knocking on the bright blue door. She heard scrambling noises from the inside and a light thump followed by a groan. Muffled noises that she couldn't quite make out seemed to be arguing over something.  
_  
"You get it."  
"It's your house! You get it!"  
"I'm not wearing any pants!"  
"Neither am I!"_

Julia raised her eyebrows, considering walking away and coming back another time. No - she'd had far more strange encounters than this, especially when she walked into a house and was almost hit over the head by a strange green creature in a brown hooded cloak. She hadn't allowed Hayner anywhere near kitchenware after that._  
_"If I could speak to the owner of the household for a moment.." She called, rapping her pale knuckles against the doorframe once more.

"See? Owner of the household. You get it!"  
"Don't make me hurt you."  
_  
_More scrambling noises, and a ruffling of plastic. The door quivered under Julia's touch and was thrown open rather forcefully.  
Hayner looked up at her with wide eyes, a low rasping noise coming from his throat. Julia ran her eyes over him - his black singlet was torn slightly, and -  
"Hayner," Julia tittered. "Are you borrowing Pence's boxers again? You know your downstairs comfort is important after that Struggle injury: briefs only. I didn't even know they lived around here, you'd imagine his family would camp out in the food court, they're the sort.."  
"No, Mom. I mean - wait. Uh. Hi, Mom."  
"Yes, hello dear. Is his mother home? I'm sure there's some kind of passage about self-control and gluttony in one of these pamphlets.. I do hope you two didn't stay up late.."

"He stayed _up_ long enough," came a call from somewhere inside the house.  
"Shut up, _Pence_." Hayner hissed. Julia clicked her tongue and peered up at him from under her brow.  
"Really, that boy is a bad influence on you. You don't even Struggle anymore, although I never condoned that barbaric activity. You're always out somewhere or doing homework at a friend's house.."  
"Yes, Mom. I'm doing a lot of homework lately. To make you proud 'n stuff." Hayner scratched the back of his neck. "Sei - I mean, Pence, I'll get some pamphlets to him, or something."

As Julia loaded a few books into Hayner's arms ("That dog of theirs may as well have a book too, dear."), she was too busy checking how much she would be owed to notice the hand creeping around Hayner's ankle.  
"Home by six, yes? It shouldn't take you more than six hours to finish that homework, although knowing you two you'll fool around rather than do any work. At least it isn't with girls, hn? Saving yourself for that 'Olette' girl, I'm sure."

Hayner wiggled his foot anxiously, pressing the books close to his chest. Julia sighed smugly. She had a feeling she would like this area - perhaps she would drop in to Pence's another time when Hayner wasn't here to make an even _bigger _sale. The smugness may have clouded her judgement slightly, and she drove away happy that she had a nice son who did all his homework and had plenty of responsible friends to guide him away from sin.

It also may have clouded her opinion over what exactly caused the squeak and clattering of books once the door was closed.  
"That 'Quina' of theirs, I mean really, can't they keep a dog on a leash?"

* * *

How many Final Fantasy references did I cram in there?!  
And no.  
That wasn't Pence. Who do you _think _it was? xD


	16. Complicated

Not much of an author's note here. I wrote this when in an insanely good mood, and a little something kinda brought me back down again. But hey, this isn't angst. Or humour! Mindfuck. :D  
I also owe the lucky ellesugars - my 100th reviewer - a dedication Oneshot (seperate from LCIL). x3 I'll tell you guys when I upload it so you can read it if you like, 'kay?  
**I am not owning of the Kingdom of the Hearts. **

* * *

Seifer Almasy would never rape someone. Not if you egged him on with a million of your popular, intimidating friends. Hell, not even if you paid him. He was a low guy, but he'd seen enough of those bruises on his mother's thighs as a child to know the kind of effect that leaves on somebody.

So he didn't quite understand the charge that the judge's gavel was falling for. It was a small court - the kind Seifer had told himself he'd end up in whenever he was running away from a fresh piece of graffiti, spray can in hand. But he couldn't run from _this_, from these damn _looks. _Hayner's mother, the judge, the jury - thank God they didn't need to call in witnesses, that would have been so much worse. With Seifer's track record and Hayner's sparkling clean one, a single look at the smaller, doe-eyed boy absolutely convinced the law that Seifer had taken advantage of his boyfriend.  
Bambi eyes were _so_ not evidence in Seifer's opinion.

To the_ law_, consent didn't matter. To the **law**, _one little year _mattered. One tiny little year was the difference between rape and making love. If Hayner's mum hadn't blabbed about 'that pack of condoms' to all her prude friends, the only bad thing that would have come from their relationship was a sore ass.

But **now**, Seifer wouldn't see his boyfriend for three whole months. And if he didn't have all these unregistered truants and crimes on his record it wouldn't even be three. Although, the time didn't matter (it would eventually, whenever Seifer took a moment's pause in juvy to think about where Hayner was).  
The place didn't matter. The jury could've been sending him to a gay boy resort and it still would've been Hell - just Hell with lube.  
That one charge that stuck out to Seifer. _That _mattered.

Because he was going to a juvenile detention centre for '_statutory rape of Hayner Covington'_. To the_ **law**_.  
But to Seifer and Hayner he was being _jailed_ for **loving him**.

* * *

Whee, drabble.  
And yeah. Tut tut Seifer, keep your damn dick in your pants until Hayner's over the legal age!


	17. Enthusiasm

This one popped into my head out of nowhere. Also; I'm on holidays! WHOO! ;3  
**I do not own Kingdom Hearts.**  


* * *

  
Pence raised an eyebrow, watching as his best friend vigorously applied Olette's chapstick to his slightly bruised and swollen lips.  
"Struggle injury?" Olette asked, leaning forward.  
Hayner inched away from her slightly."... Yeah."

* * *

  
Yeah.  
Sure.  
We believe you.


	18. SHOOP DA WOOP

Sorry, lovely reviewers, LCIL (along with all my other currently running fics) is being **SHUT DOWN. **Why? Very personal issues drove me away from Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy and towards shows like Skins and Torchwood. Yay, Britain.  
So, if you're watching this account just for Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy updates, stop watching me. Your inbox is going to be spammed up with Pushing Daisies, Doctor Who and very un-KH like stories.

Thankyou all for your reviews and support.

You can keep this fic on your Alert, if you like. Maybe someday I'll revive it.. o:


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